Closure
by Gingerstorm101
Summary: Jeanne finds Tony in Pairs, but he's not alone...established Tiva


_Jeanne finds Tony in Paris, but he's not alone._

In the years she has returned to the city, she's never had this feeling. There was always the undertone of grief the moment she got off the airplane, remembrance, but the anxiety that made her look over her shoulder was something completely new to her since… since that day so long ago. Since she found out the truth. She sits down on her mattress; she takes a deep breath to settle her nerves and stomach. An attempt to at least.

Feeling like enough moments has passed, she blinks her eyes tightly, brushes her hands on the shirt of her dress, brushing away her thoughts with the action. She was ready. She grabs her clutch purse, double checking to make sure she had the right items in there before she takes one last look around the hotel room then exits it.

In the hallway, she hears a voice, two voices actually, but she didn't pay attention to it, no matter how familiar it sounds. But she's heard a lot of voices in her years, especially with the profession she has. Curiosity takes the better of her though, she looks over her shoulder towards the noise, but the only thing she sees is the back half of a foot walking into the elevator. Narrowing her eyes, she makes sure her door is locked and follows the silent voices. The elevator dings shut.

Where does she remember that voice from? Shaking her head, she makes her way down the elevator and out of the building.

The six minutes it takes to get to the theatre, she keeps her ear out for the voice, trying to find the face, but all she sees is the back of the heads of a crowded street. For a second she thought she saw a familiar head, one that she hadn't seen for a few years, but it was quickly replaced with a child on his shoulders. It couldn't have been him.

She takes a deep breath to slow her beating heart, doing her best to not keep looking. Tonight was something more important than greeting someone who she once knew.

She arrives at the show early on purpose, pulling out an old photo and placing it on the chair beside her. God she missed him, he always knew to meet her here, even without her having to tell him. But she was alone today, as she has been for the last ten years. Waiting patiently, the crowd around her calms down and the show starts, and it brings her to tears.

The music stops after a couple hours and the crowd roars into applause, and she too joins in, the first noise she makes throughout the entire show. When the talent leaves the stage, she hastily leaves her seat and heads to the washroom, not once taking a glance around her.

Once she finds the washroom, she uses one of the stalls, hearing outside as the line of ladies let a young girl go ahead of them. She finishes up and walks up to the sink to wash her hands and takes the time to clear the smudged makeup on her face. Wiping away the last black smudge under her eye, out of the corner she sees the little girl she heard talking to the ladies standing beside her at the sink, desperately reaching for the taps.

She frowns, there was something about this girl that looks familiar, but she can't put her finger on it. "Would you like some help, sweetie?" She asks in French, motioning to the taps before her.

"Yes please, ma'am." The little girl responds in French politely, looking up at her. She gulps, those eyes, she knows those eyes from somewhere. Leaning over, she turns the cold knob on and gives the little girl a boost to squirt some soap into her hand. Together, they wash their hands. "Thank you." The little girl smiles.

She looks around, expecting someone to be in the stall waiting for her, or even in line, but when no one stayed to wait for her, she got curious. "May I ask, where is your mother? Is she here with you?"

Suddenly the girl frowns. "No, my _Ima_," She says in a different language before switching back over into the country's language, "isn't here, but my father is." She crouches down to the girl's eye level. "He's waiting for me." No one should leave a child this young unattended for long.

"We can never be too careful. Can I make sure you are safe with your father?" The little one nods, grabbing her by the hand and leading her out of the washroom. It was a short walk outside the crowded entrance, and she honestly wasn't expecting it when the little girl started talking in English.

"Daddy! Daddy!" She shouts, letting go of her hand and running towards the tall man who was leaning against the wall. She froze in place when he smiled at the girl and pulled her into his arms.

It couldn't be.

He catches her eye, frozen in his spot with the child in his arms. "Jeanne?" She is flabbergasted. This man before her has a child? With his eyes? She opens her mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could she say to him after the way they parted? The moment of silence between them dragged on longer than she wished.

"Tony." She breathes, the air still between them.

The little girl, Tony's daughter she presumes, looks between the two with a questioning look, her arms around his neck. "Daddy?" She asks.

The man breaks contact with her to look at the curly haired child in his arms, a small smile grazes his lips as he makes eye contact with her. "Yes Tali?" _Tali? That's a __Middle Eastern__ name._ She thought.

"Are you going to introduce us?" She smiles at the politeness from the girl, many of the children she's treated at home still haven't mastered their manners.

Tony opens his mouth dramatically, holding her with his one arm. "Ah, yes!" And then takes a step closer to her. "Tali DiNozzo," His daughter laughs. "This is the ever lovely and talented Dr. Jeanne Benoit, an old friend of mine." She didn't want to, but a smile escaped her lips at the introduction. "And may I ask how you two have come to meet?" He takes a side glance at her.

Jeanne steps in. "I was helping Tali wash her hands, she can't reach the taps just yet." Tony watches his daughter as she smiles widely and nods her head.

"Maybe next year." He says, brushing her hair back behind her ear. They go quiet again, and Jeanne looks away from the pair, her heart aching. She was just about to speak when she heard his voice again. "Do you…" He trails off, not meeting her eye when she lifts her head to look at him. "Do you want to get a coffee?"

She stares agape at him, unsure of what to say. He was her ex-boyfriend, who had lied to her for months, pretending to be someone he was not. Maybe it's something that happened with Tali's mother, her Ima as she calls her. Curiosity took the better of her.

"Sure."

The cafe that was down the street from the theatre and their hotel didn't close for a few more hours by the time they were able to make their way to it through the crowd. The three of them found a spot beside the window, sipping on coffee and hot chocolate, the air still between the two adults.

"I didn't know you were one for the opera."

Her comment made him freeze as he lifted his cup to his lips. He didn't say anything as he completed the movement and took a small sip. When he places the cup down, he softly speaks. "I wasn't until a few years ago." There must have been a look in her eyes, but he continued with a pained look in his eyes. "The last time Tali got to see her mother was at an Opera Theatre. Ziva used to go every year in honour of her lost sister, so while she is unable to go, we keep up the tradition."

She turns her head to look over at Tali who was using her straw to eat the whipped cream off the top of her hot chocolate. Ziva. That name... it sounds so familiar. Where has she heard it before? She's sure of it.

"You?"

Jeanne whips her head back at him, her mouth open in confusion for a moment before she understood the question. "Dad… he used to take me to the Opera every year for my birthday. This year I couldn't go because Mom got sick, so I made it for today. Never thought I'd run into anyone on the other side of the world." She looks away, almost embarrassed. Why? She didn't know. He nods in understanding.

Tony takes another drink, two sips this time to draw out his thoughts. But she's surprised when he places the cup on his table and pulls out his wallet, the same one she remembers from those months they were together. He pulls out a photo from a hidden compartment and hands it to her.

Ziva.

She recognizes the face now. She was the woman he was with when she accused him of murdering her father, something she had come to regret in time. The woman he worked with. The name she'd hear him say in another room while he's on the phone. She was the woman he had settled down with? She examines the photo of the beautiful, smiling, exotic woman standing at the postcard stand, then her heart skips a beat. She was here in Paris. They came to Paris together?

She glances overtop of the photo to look at his hands. No wedding ring. What happened to her? Surely it wasn't just the two of them. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost David. She has so many questions, ones that she thinks are too personal to even ask. What did he do with his job? What would she have done with having a five year old and no one to help raise her?

Wait.

Jeanne mentally backed up. She had only seen him four years ago, and he had no child back then. He was even looking at her like he didn't have a girlfriend. Her brows furrowed. She opens her mouth to say something, looking back and forth between the two, unsure of what to say.

Then he says something. "I didn't know about Tali until she was almost two." She could see the uneasiness in his eyes, with the shift of his shoulders. "Ziva… She was going through things, and then something happened where she sent her to me. And it's been the two of us ever since." He smiles over at his daughter, and the two of them watch as the five year old dunks a cookie in the drink.

No, she would never think of cheating on her husband, for lying just as Tony had done. David has made her happy, her business is happy. She would never give that up. Deep in thought, she observes the father and daughter as the little girl dunks her cookie into the hot chocolate and holds it up for him to take a bite, which he does eagerly.

Everyone's attention was brought to the _ding_ of a message alert.

Tony pulls out his cellphone, and Tali leaves her seat to cuddle up beside her father, her eyes focused on the screen, a wide toothy smile.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't alone after all. "I- uh," She pauses. "I better get going." He looks up at her for a moment, catching her eye, and nods. "Goodbye Tony."

Tali looks up at her, waves her goodbye. "It was nice to meet you, Jeanne." She takes the image of the child in, half Tony, half Ziva, the perfect mixture.

"It was nice to meet you too, Tali DiNozzo." Jeanne walks away from the table and heads to the door. Before exiting, she takes one last look at the table. Tony and Tali were talking into the phone, and a woman's voice was talking back.

This was the closure she never knew she needed.


End file.
